“Oh no, I mightn’t,” interrupted the convict, “that’s the gag that judges work, but it’s not true. It doesn’t follow because a man makes an ingenious criminal that he would be a howling success as an architect, or because he can forge a cheque that he would have made a fortune by company promotion. An ordinary intelligent man can always shine in crime because he is in competition with very dull-witted and ignorant fellow-craftsmen.” He took a step forward and leant on the edge of the desk. “Look here, sir, you remember me at Sandhurst; you were a man of my year. You know that I was dependent on an allowance from an uncle who died before I passed through. What was I fit for when I came down? It seemed jolly easy the first week in London, because I had a tenner to carry on with, but in a month I was starving. So I worked the Spanish prisoner fraud, played on the cupidity of people who thought they were going to make an immense fortune with a little outlay--it was easy money for me.” The Governor shook his head again. “I’ve done all sorts of stunts since then,” 75 went on unveraciously. “I’ve worked every kind of trick,” he smiled as at some pleasant recollection. “There isn’t a move in the game that I don’t know; there isn’t a bad man in London I couldn’t write the biography of, if I was so inclined. I’ve no friends, no relations, nobody in the world I care two penn’oth of gin about, and I’m quite happy: and when you say I have been in prison ten times, you should say fourteen.” “You’re a fool,” said the Governor, and pressed a bell. “I’m an adventuring philosopher,” said 75 complacently, as the warder came in to march him back to his cell.... Just before the prison bell clanged the order for bed, a warder brought him a neat bundle of clothing. “Look over these, 75, and check them,” said the officer pleasantly. He handed a printed list to the prisoner. “Can’t be bothered,” said Amber, taking the list. “I’ll trust to your honesty.” “Check ’em.” Amber unfastened the bundle, unfolded his clothing, shook them out and laid them over the bed. “You keep a man’s kit better than they do in Walton,” he said approvingly, “no creases in the coat, trousers nicely pressed--hullo, where’s my eyeglass?” He found it in the waistcoat pocket, carefully wrapped in tissue-paper, and was warm in his praise of the prison authorities. “I’ll send a man in to shave you in the morning,” said the warder, and lingered at the door. “75,” he said, after a pause, “don’t you come back here.” “Why not?” Amber looked up with his eyebrows raised. “Because this is a mug’s game,” said the warder. “A gentleman like you! Surely you can keep away from a place like this!” Amber regarded the other with the glint of a smile in his eyes. “You’re ungrateful, my warder,” he said gently. “Men like myself give this place a tone, besides which, we serve as an example to the more depraved and lawless of the boarders.”